


What Would You Do?

by Ghostinthehouse



Series: Demon and Angel Professors [36]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), Gen, Misgendering, Multi, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 18:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22002625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse
Summary: Crowley leaned casually against the chest high counter as he gave his name and who he was here as proxy for, then took a seat in the room indicated.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Demon and Angel Professors [36]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412962
Comments: 52
Kudos: 1430





	What Would You Do?

**Author's Note:**

> CW for transphobic language and misgendering throughout

Crowley leaned casually against the chest high counter as he gave his name and who he was here as proxy for, then took a seat in the room indicated.

The woman, Sarah, who joined him there had clearly been expecting someone whose buttons she already knew how to push. He was not that person, so she would have no choice but to fall back on the usual tactics. Charm, needle, guilt, threaten.

There was a moment of surprise when she saw him, but he also noted the moment when she clearly decided that the conventionally attractive white man in the dinner jacket was "on her side" and turned on the charm, all "concerned" about her "son".

He leaned back in his chair, outwardly all relaxation as the charm rolled off him without effect. "You don't have a son," he said, hammering his tone into something approaching politeness. "And your daughter would rather run halfway across campus and take refuge with a stranger than come anywhere near you."

"I'm his mother!"

Guilt-tripping already? "One of her mothers," Crowley corrected, as pedantic as Aziraphale could sometimes be. "She prefers the other one, I'm afraid."

"Well, what would you do then, if your child rebelled so fiercely?"

He pursed his lips, in obvious consideration, then replied solumnly, "Well, first I would be delighted that they are such a chip off the old block. Then I would make sure to find out their real name and use it. That would be the name they chose, of course," he clarified, after a moment. "I would see them safe and happy and flying free. And if they ever wanted to come back to me - they would know where to find me."

She turned to needling, trying to get a rise out of him with comments on his looks, nasty personality, presumed singleness, and lack of children, all couched with sweetness and niceness to let her claim she was the victim when he blew up at her.

He just grinned back, nudging it a bit wider and a bit toothier with each comment, and not taking the bait, because there was nothing quite so infuriating to someone like this as someone who wouldn't be manipulated. Sure enough, she was the one who got angry in the face of his "insolence". "How dare you let her sacrifice our son on some altar of ideology! Is-"

"Izzie," he cut in, not letting her deadname the child to his face. "Her name is Izzie. And the only one sacrificing anything to an ideology is you."

"That's a nickname," she hissed at him, bristling. "My child deserves better than that."

"It's what she wants to be called, therefore it's her real name. I'm not so rude as to deliberately call someone by the wrong name, I don't know why your kind find it so hard. Plenty of people go by a preferred short-form of their name, and none of you complain about that."

" _My_ kind?"

He gave her an patronising little smile, like a teacher pointing out a ridiculously obvious fact that had been overlooked. "Bigots."

Her mouth opened, shut, then gaped wider again as his "rudeness" sank in. "How dare you! To imply that..." She turned on the tears. He leaned forward just long enough to flick the box of tissues over to her side of the table.

"Your superiors," she snarled when tears failed to move him, "will hear about this! Then we'll see!"

And they, Crowley amended with silent amusement to himself, will be shocked, shocked, to hear that _Dr Crowley_ is a vile, evil, piece of work. "You won't get your daughter back," he reiterated instead. "She's safer, and freer, and happier away from you, and that, as far as I'm concerned, is all there is to it. Goodbye. Don't come after her again." He pushed himself to his feet, and for just a breath, he radiated pure danger. Then he walked out of the room, and the door whispered shut behind him.


End file.
